Witnesses
by Glee Sam lover
Summary: 'Sam, that is clearly an preposterous statement. We can't just, leave.'/ 'But we can't die either Rach.'
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Witnesses**

**Summary: ''Sam, that is clearly an preposterous statement. We can't just, leave.''/ ''But we can't die either Rach.''**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or any of these characters. This is a bit AU, and it takes place after Regionals. Finn and Rachel are broken up. Sam and Quinn as well.**

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><p><strong>Chapter one: After Party.<strong>

Rachel feels like the dumbest fool alive, and Brittany's new statement about her cat who's scared of mouses, doesn't help at all. Nor does her impossible movement, which is trying to touch her nose with her tongue, help. It does lead Rachel to crack a little smile, but it disperse as soon as it came. Her lips fall subsequently back to her recent ache. And her body tenses all over again. Rachel crosses her arms over her chest pushing her back against the wall. She bites back a sermon about Brittany's never ending endeavors, and tries too focus on anything but the current two people kissing each other as if dear life was about to end.

Rachel never suspected that the Glee club's after party would lead this way. She expected joy, and laughter, maybe occasional a few looks between her and Finn. But none came from it, nor did he even spare a glance towards her crooked body. He didn't even dare to ask her what could be her issue. Finn instead, was sucking of the face of his ex girlfriend. Or what could be examined as his current girlfriend. Seeing as they were that close. And it not only troubled Rachel that he didn't ask her why she was hovering in a far away corner, it also made her rage that Finn would now be licking of the face of the person whom had tortured him, and mistreated him all the way through sophomore year. And not even spare a glance at her.

Maybe Rachel wasn't enough for him, or maybe she didn't treat him with enough love and affection. Perhaps Quinn showed him how a person should be loved, and therefore he chose her above Rachel. Though Rachel wouldn't deny, she deserved the breakup that had come between her and Finn, but that did not explain why he would rather be with the girl whom had hurt him far more worse that she has done. Maybe it's because he never expected that she would do something that despicable as cheating, or maybe he needed a lame excuse to break up with her and fall back in the hands of Quinn Fabray. Whatever his reason might be, it still was unfair for him to flamboyance their relationship so closely in front of her. Especially if she's trying to enjoy their conquest. Now nothing of that can occur. He and his pretty little friend have spoiled it all for her.

She eyes the messy living room, as if she's trying to find something, maybe someone. Someone who might also be inflicted with the spectacle that is Finn and Quinn. But she soon gives up on her search, and instead looks at her fellow glee clubbers who've been drunk for most of the evening. Their body's gangling of the extent use of alcohol. Some of them are hysterical laughing, others dancing forcefully, using their midriff to show more effect to their sensual dances. Rachel somehow wants to be apart of it, dance like nothing is bothering her.. Just being a teenager, for that is what she is. But she doesn't make any steps towards the dance floor that is Mike's living room, instead she sits in a empty corner while clutching her unconsumed drink, she eyes her drink a little longer than expected. Thinking back at the day that Brittany had devoted her lunch food in her face, and knowing that such thing must never befall again, she stood up. Walking past Mercedes and Tina, whom didn't give her a spare look, they solely laughed their asses off. And it made Rachel search for the cause of their laughter, but she saw none. Nothing that would remotely be funny. She tore her eyes away from her peers, as she walked past Brittany and Artie, she hopes desperately that Brittany wouldn't be that drunk to vomit in her face once more. She had styled her hair a little more for this occasion, and had stayed sober too prevent such a filthy circumstance.

She keeps on walking towards the trash can, passing her peers on her way to the kitchen. Rachel wonders for a moment why she had been invited for the party, knowing that the halve of the glee club didn't like her, she thought it was odd for her to be a part of their group for the first time. Perhaps it's because they didn't want her to feel left out, for she had brought them to their victory, pushing them an inch closer towards New york.

It made her feel used, though.

She stops in front of the can, pushing the lid up, not even bothering to empty her cup before dumping it in the trash can. She sighs loudly, shaking her head, not knowing why she is still here at the party. When she suddenly feels a large hand on her shoulder. Undoubtedly knowing that the hand was familiar.

''Rach.'' She abruptly turns around, knowing that the sound that had just announced itself was from non other then Finn Hudson. ''How'd ya been feeling babe?'' A drunk Finn Hudson to be precisely. Though she smiles a genuine smile. Perhaps she likes the way he calls her babe.

''Nice to hear you discourses with me Finn,'' she smiles brightly once more.

''Th- this doesn't mean th- that I forgive you. Yo- you- you cheater!'' He hovers over her pressing his left hand against her cheek, ''I hate you. But I love you too. And I hate that I love you.'' Rachel shakes her head slightly, not knowing if she should be happy that he told her he loved her, or be utterly furious that he calls her cheater.

''Finn, just stop. You're not fully conscious. The liquor makes you say things that are not true.'' She sighs, ''don't do this, okay.'' She leans a little bit on his hand, but feels him letting her cheek go. It hurts her to know that he keeps slipping away, even if he's so close.

''Screw you Rachel!'' Finn steps a little backwards, moving his arms up in protest. ''I can do what I want. A- and.. You- you know what..'' Rachel knows by now that she should walk away from this conversation, knowing that this will lead to nothing good but hateful words. But she doesn't leave, instead she stay's frozen on her spot, taken back by his sudden outburst. ''I don't understand why I dated you, Quinn is so much better. In every fucking aspect.'' He laughs bitterly, ''I don't fucking need you, and you need to fucking leave me alone!''

''I didn't participate in a conversation with you Finn,'' she shakes her head, trying to understand why he's acting like this. ''You came to, me,'' she bites her lip, as she hears the words leave her mouth. She keeps reminding herself that the liquor is talking and not Finn. Never Finn, he would never talk to her like that. ''I don't even understand wh- why your with Quinn, is it because you're intoxicated?'' She questions softly, bowing her head for more effect, though fearing that his answer would hurt her.

''J- jees Rachel. Were you always such a fucking pain in the ass,'' he slurs his words, ''Quinn is better then you, are you fucking deaf. So even if I wasn't drunk, I would totally nail her.'' He frowns a bit. ''I don't even know why I'm talking to you, Quinn is like waiting for me.'' He steps a bit closer, holding her cheek once more, but this time she slaps his hand away. ''Stop being such a tease Rachel,'' he barley say's above a whisper. ''You would wait for me, wouldn't you? You always would.. Pathetic.'' He sees her eyes gloss slightly, her eyebrows crunching together.

''Don't cry Rach,'' he puts his hand on her cheek. ''I- I am just telling you the truth. Because that is what you value, don't you? The truth.'' His face turns bitter, eyes haunted with anger. ''So you thought kissing with fucking Puckerman would make me forgive you because you said the truth.. Right!'' He slides his hand to her hair, clutching it in his hands. ''Right?''

''Don't touch me Finn!'' She pulls her right hand up, slapping him across the face. ''Don't you ever.. Touch me again.'' Rachel feels her hand sting, but keeps holding her steady composure. She turns on her heels, before running out the door, leaving her jacket in Mike's house, but not bothering to take it. She expected that Mike would be gentle enough to return it back.

She runs faster and faster, letting her feet push her forward with every step, but failing to hear the pounding feet following her closely behind.

Rachel thinks about the reason for her heart to still linger in Finn's grasp, how he could make her so weak, yet let her feel so good. She hopes that she can walk away from him for good, or maybe run away just like today. Though she knows deep inside that she wouldn't be able to do such thing. Knowing that he was intoxicated this particularly time, would make her forgive him the next day. And therefore she hates her heart, and her easily forgiving spirit.

''Rachel, wait.'' Rachel hears a voice calling up at her, but she still refuses to turn around, instead she runs faster on the metalled streets further into the darkness. She feels her breathing increase by the second, her legs getting tired, but she still keeps running. She still lets her body move her forward.

''Rachel hold up,'' a large hand grabs her shoulder firmly, stopping her right in her tracks. ''It's going to be okay, Rachel. Just stop running.'' She knows that the voice did not only mean the running away through the streets, but also the running away from the truth. That Finn did indeed hurt her. And she wonders if she deserves the treatment he gave her. Not only today, but throughout their entire relationship.

She turns around, and grabs the shirt collar of one of her peers, before putting her head on his chest and crying her heart out.

''It's going to be fine, Rach.'' He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer against his body. Not caring if her tears would soak his shirt. He could wash his clothes when he comes home anyway.

''What.. are.. you doing, here, Sam?'' Rachel asks between sobs. She pushes her body slightly away from his, so to look up in his green eyes. Only to see them invaded with concern. Hearing his voice more closely she indeed knew that it was Samuel Evans whom came here to solace her.

''I heard you and Finn talking.''

She pushes herself more firmly away from his body, breaking out of his grasp. ''Wait. That could mean.. The rest, the others. They might've heard it too.'' She shakes her head. ''This is not good.''

''And why isn't it good?'' Sam steps forward, his face almost appreciable in the clear darkness, but she knows what his face was asking her, questioning her why she would defend a person whom treated her less than trash.

She asks herself the same question.

''Because.. The others will think perversely of him. And he's not bad, just moronic at times.'' She swallows tightly. ''Finn's just mad, and he will be fine, tomorrow.'' She knows that Sam isn't the only one whom she's trying to convince in this conversation. And knowing that there are only two of them in this converse, the other one whom she's trying to convince must be herself.

''And you believe that Rachel?'' She turns her back towards him, letting her eyes wander over the dark empty streets, noticing only three lampposts illuminating the dark roadways. ''You can't possibly believe something like that..'' She keeps gazing in front of herself. Wrapping her arms around her body, in an attempt to warm herself up.

''Well I do,'' she say's, determined to make herself believe her own words, and make Sam believe hers.

''You're cold.'' He sees her shake lightly, her hands moving up and down her arms. Sam takes off his own jacket as he steps forward towards Rachel. ''Here, take my jacket.''

Rachel turns around, still having a firm hold on herself. ''I can't.'' She shakes uncontrollably, but still denies his admirable promptings.

''Yes you can, and yes you will.'' He pulls her closer, ready to put the coat around her. But soon both teens get brutally disturbed by a car riding it's way through the dim streets.

Sam in an act of heroic, pulls Rachel closer into the darkness, making sure that they were nowhere near the street lights, but close enough to hear the words that were being extend.

They see three people step out of a black SUV, their body's moving closer towards the center, but the car staying unparked at the side of the road. The abstruse humans are walking with steady steps closer towards the vivid lampposts lights. The fierce light falls upon their faces, whilst the glim falls upon their garment. Giving the teens a clear look, not only of their faces, but also their clothing.

''Wait,'' Rachel whispers softly. ''I know that man.'' Rachel peers through the lights, letting her eyes wander over the familiar person. She eyes his dark black hair, and his not entirely built up body.

''What do you mea-'' Sam hears a loud note coming from the man that Rachel had identified. It almost sounds like laughter.

The quite thick man walks closer towards an unknown person. He leans a little bit up so his eyes could search the ones of the stranger. ''You've failed us the last time, Luther.'' The thick man smiles sickeningly. ''You won't fail us again.'' He steps backwards, as he motions for his other (partner in crime?) to step forward. Letting the light of the lamppost shine upon his face. Rachel eyes the thick man closer, but not removing from her place in the darkness. Not wanting to let them know that people were hovering in the darkness, and listening on to their conversation.

''What do you want me to do?'' The other man said, as he walked more closer towards the middle, stopping right next to the man Rachel supposedly knows. Rachel takes a closer look at the man next to the familiar one. Seeing this one have his brownish hair in a ponytail, his arms buff from what she suspected would be training. Such muscles could only come from excessive exercise. Not even Noah had such biceps. Or perhaps the man standing there was on drugs, but she doubts it.

''End him. He has done nothing but interfere in our plans. And I will have no such thing again.''

''No wait!'' The terrifying man whom just moments ago stood frozen spoke up. ''I- I am sorry. I promise. It won't happen again. Please give me a chance, I will. I will-''

''You will what!'' The thick man screamed, causing Rachel to nearly jump out of her skin, but Sam held her tightly, never letting his grip weaken around her. ''I don't need your promises, Luther.'' He sighs. ''You have failed me, my friend. And I can't have that again.'' He walks closer towards Luther. Kissing his cheek twice.

''Is this like a Mafia boss?'' Sam questions, his voice containing fear.

''Why do you think such thing?''

''Because,'' he eyes the sight before him. ''Mafia's always kiss their victims, before killing them.''

Rachel pushes her eyebrows a little higher, her lips turning into a thoughtful frown. ''You watch to much movies, Sam.''

The buff bystander pushes Luther a little further ahead, letting his blond hair fall into his eyes. Luther wipes the traces of hair from his face, before biting his lip. Perhaps he's thinking about a good excuse to get out of whatever is going to happen. Though it seemed that he had less than minutes to come up with a thoughtful plan as the thick man steps back. Giving his muscular partner more entrance to the blond haired man.

''Tanaka..'' Rachel whispers softly, when she gets a better clear shot at the thick man. She gazes at his dark eyebrows and his small little frame. Knowingly that only one person would be wearing shorts in the middle of the night.

''What?'' Sam whispers back, but doesn't receive an answer. Instead he sees a black gun been taken away from the companion's pocket, he aims it at the head of Luther. And without hesitating he shoots him square in the head. Letting the sound of a gunshot run through the empty dark streets. Sam feels Rachel stiffen under his touch, and his own breath hitches in his throat. None of them being able to speak, or say a single thing. Instead both of the teens stay motionless, having only each other for comfort and support to not fall and drop down on their knees this instant.

''Check if he's dead, and if he indeed is, drag him to the car.'' The thick man say's as he starts walking backwards. His body showing nothing but composure, and Rachel asks herself for a moment how he could not even blink an eye, or even show a little compassion of the deed that he has inflicted upon an harmless man.

''Will do boss.'' Rachel sees his companion, pull the body over his shoulder, not even flinching for a bit, or shuffle underneath such a weight. He steps towards the car, and uses his free hand to open the back of the car. Whereupon he places the body in the back, not so much showing any grief.

Thinking of their conversation, Rachel at least knew that they had some kind of friendship, maybe, or that they knew each other well enough to participate, in whatever they did. She could only see a flash of blond hair before seeing the immobile body being placed at the back of the car.

However, Rachel couldn't think clearly, nor could she say anything, instead she felt like crying, and that she did. Incompetent to hold the tears for a person she does not even know. She thinks that the tears that were being shed were for a human who wouldn't get a proper funeral, also because of the sight that Rachel had seen. Not knowing what to do, or where to turn to, she finally managed to make a sound. Her lips parted and to avail she had managed to gaps, loudly. But not thinking about the people whom had yet to leave. She could only think about the man whom had fallen, miserably. And the person who had lead this attack to happen. Sam on the other hand didn't want to be noted just yet, so he removed his hand from Rachel's waist and planted this on her lips. Though Sam had always been one to act fast, this was not one of those cases. For the two despicable humans who had heard this sound, were now eying their particularly spot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Witnesses**

**Summary: ''Sam, that is clearly an preposterous statement. We can't just, leave.''/ ''But we can't die either Rach.''**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or any of these characters. This is a bit AU, and it takes place after Regionals. Finn and Rachel are broken up. Sam and Quinn as well.**

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><p><strong>Chapter two: Fearing for what's coming next.<strong>

Sam never knew that following Rachel would lead him so close to his death, or bring him to witness something he never wanted to behold in his lifetime. Because seeing someone getting shot right in front of his eyes isn't a matter he wished for to see. Nor would anybody want to behold such a thing. Seeing it on TV on the contrary seems exciting and terrifying in a good way. But getting to be on the same location a person gets shot at, isn't remotely close, nor does it give him a pleasant feeling. It mostly feels like it's him who's getting shot, and he thinks that Rachel felt the same way. Knowing that she nearly jumped out of her skin when he was holding her, proved his right from wrong. Though he can't put the fault on her, she wasn't the one who pulled the trigger on a harmless soul nor did she press him to follow her into the darkness. That was his own alternative and therefor he has received the consequences.

Cursed his apprehension for the petite girl.

Though he has to admit, it feels nice holding her so close.

Nevertheless this was not something he wanted to experience, the shock value was too high of a cost. And the mental pictures that were flashing in front of his eyes were psychically enough to traumatize a person for life. He doubts that he could get peaceful dreams after today.

He's basically now only haunted with a few questions, mostly he wants to know what he and Rachel are going to do about this, and why a poor man has gotten shot (maybe he isn't that innocent after all, he doubts that two guy's would shoot somebody clear in the blue). And he's also constipating whether to run now, or hope that they didn't hear Rachel's gasp and stay fastening on his current spot.

But surely hoping wouldn't help him in this situation.

''Did you hear that?'' Sam hesitantly cups his head up to the thick guy that Rachel seemingly recognized, only to see him eying their particularly spot. However Sam noticed him trying his optimum to see who's there, though he didn't seem to gain what he desperately seeks.

''It sounded like a gasp,'' the muscular dude spoke up, following his leader's eyes.

''Yes it did.'' The fuller man walks away from his car, his body moving closer towards the dim lights. But somehow still keeping his eye on their spot, ensuring both teens to stiff up under his gaze. Although the man could not see their body's, they knew that he was fully aware of their presence. ''Is somebody there?'' He asks in entirety, but Sam of course knew that the question was directed to him and Rachel. ''Come out, come out, where ever you are.'' By now the thick guy was taunting, his voice carrying a playful tune. However Sam knew that he wouldn't do anything pleasurable with him or Rachel. Maybe it would be fun for the brawny dude to do it, seeing as he had no problem to end a persons life. He presumable saw killing people as a game too.

Sam closed his eyes tightly, trying to let his anxiety decrease. Biting his lip he kept using his brain on full power, hoping that he could find a good resolution for this mayor problem. Thus Sam knew surely that he had to make a choice, right now. And he was certain that staying on the same spot wouldn't be a good hiding place forever. Soon they would probably step into the darkness and find him and Rachel. He knows that nothing good will occur from their actions.

He feels Rachel's body tense up due to their taunts, he doesn't have to be a genius to know that Rachel was also debating whether to leave or stay put.

''Check ahead of you. I'm certain that the sound came from there.'' The muscular dude obeyed, but not before taking his gun in his hand and pulling the handle. Whereupon a terrifying sound was revealed from the weapon. He felt Rachel once again tense up in his arm, leading her body to shake uncontrollable. Sam thought about how frightened she must be right now, and wrapped his free arm tighter around her waist still holding his jacket, and letting his other hand remain upon her lips. Hoping that this could ease her fear, it did, a little bit.

Sam saw the man walk towards their location, his steps deliberately slow. ''Just come out..'' He mimicked his leader, as his eyes retracted from the right to the left, his fingers grasping the lug of the weapon tighter. His tongue darted out of his mouth and wetted his bottom lip slightly, still moving closer towards his dark destination.

Sam's bottom lip trembled, fear practically adopting over his entire body. He was always one to find a good solution for problems, therefor he wanted to prove that he could be a good leader. That was one of his reasons to kick Finn of his throne and trying this for several times, although he failed. Hence he had nothing but his arduously options, and no idea to act upon. Sam shook his head, he mustn't think such foul of himself. Still it didn't stop his mind to go back to his crucial thoughts.

Somehow he could hear Finn's laughter at the back of his mind. Telling him that he not only failed himself, but also the girl in his arms. And Sam so despairingly wanted to prove Finn wrong and show the tall quarterback that he could take care of not only his self but also Rachel, no matter the cost.

Thus instead of making a wise decision, he let his feet listen to his first caught up plan, and ran, knowing that this was the first idea to pop in his head. Perhaps not the smartest, but he had no time to think it through. He grabbed Rachel by her hand and lashed away. Completely forgetting that he had his jacket in his hands, and letting it fall down so he could get a hold on Rachel and bring her with him. However this movement contained voices, which wouldn't be hard to hear. Their feet lashed from their current spot, and the jacket fell on it's place. And in that short moment Sam could definitely hear his heart beat up to his ears, as well as his blood running through his veins. Which was oddly strange for he has never heard his own blood run through any part of his body, yes he has felt it, more then countable. Mostly when he felt a bit, agitated, but this was very different from those times. And he suspected also not specifically healthy for his body. Therefor, their sounds had been nothing but clamorously and the buff dude, took this as his chance to look at this specific spot and listen to the noises before shooting in the clear darkness.

Sam could only hear the sound of the gun through the soft, breezy air.

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><p>Detective Johnson was always one to handle a case with perfection, he never had letting go of <em>anything<em> without getting to the bottom of it. Sometimes this had initiated him to have many discussions with his fellow executives. Each one of them wanted to handle a case on it's own way, but he always saw his way as the best one, the only one that was worthy for a charge, to be exact. Though he went to the extremes with his cases, he still ended an affair, leading the criminals behind bars, or dead. For those where in his eyes the only options for reckless and hideous behavior, even though he had been told to let certain affairs go, he never really did. Therefor he had gotten to be one of the best of his station, for he did everything his own way, and never followed the voice of others. Sure, he reluctantly took advice from others (and he must admit, it did come useful at times) he still did everything his own way. At the end of the day, he was the one solving a case with his idea's and his methods, and he didn't need anyone's help for that.

He wasn't the most honest person, though, nor could he be a team player. He preferred a one mans go.

Johnson had manners entangled in his brain, and an easy way to talk people into confessing. He specifically lied his way through an interrogation, telling offenders words they desperately wanted to hear, knowing that they would do everything for a disengagement.

They wouldn't get it, though.

If he knew for a fact that the offenders were in the wrong, but they haven't confessed to their refraction of the law, he would lie. Tell them words they want to hear so he could instead gain the truth out of them. It didn't matter to him, actually, for they didn't deserve his honesty nor his liberality. He had no compassion for the offenders, nor would he help them out of bars. So if that included a lie or so, he would say thousands of them.

He also took the safety of his executives at high levels, therefor he had them all wear small microphones, which ensured his employees to be save. Furthermore his methods have never failed, and if anyone dares to doubt him, he still had his medals hanging in his apartment to prove anyone right from wrong. Johnson used these microphones to listen in on a conversation, mostly when his executives were working on high profiled cases. Often inside cases.

And he enclosed repeats, his methods have never, ever failed.

But now, anyone who would want to prove his methods unequal, may get his attention. They wouldn't get him to agree, though, but may have him doubt his words. For he thinks that he had finally hit rock bottom, as he eyes the dead signal on the big black screen. The green light which was less then an half hour lucent on the board, has faded. He remembers the signal softly attenuating, and the green dot following it's leads and disappearing. He however, didn't try to send in an action, he instead waited for the signal to appear once more. Solely because of his methods at how to handle his cases, and this was one of them. He refused to enter an inside case, until several hours later, for all he can know his constable could've ended the signal on his own, due to almost being caught. He didn't agree if his constable had done this to hide his undercover movements, but he couldn't say a thing about it until he has arrived.

However, he has to admit, this was the first time in his career, and his clever use of methods that a signal had died.

''Try it again,'' Johnson said, raising his voice just a bit before crossing the rectangular room towards his desk. As he reached his bureau he took his mug and sipped his coffee, rotating the liquid in his mouth, before swallowing it down.

''We have tried it so many times,'' Johnson gazed back in front of him, staring at one of his employees, his curly gray brown hair moving along his face as he revolved his head. ''It's just..'' His employee sighed. But according to Johnson's face he didn't particularly like it that one of his agents was questioning his generalship. ''The signal has died more then an half hour-''

''It died a_ half hour ago_,'' Johnson interfered

''Sorry sir?''

''I said, it died an _half hour ago_, you said _more_ then _a half hour_. Let's now not say things that aren't true, shall we?''

''Yes.. Sir.'' The agent turned his head towards his left, using his swivel chair to stare at one of his co-workers, hoping to find support, but not getting any. Thus he turned back his head to look at his boss, swallowing his fear. ''The signal has died an _half hour ago_.'' Johnson nodded, letting his agent know that he may continue. ''So don't you think that it's best for us.. To take action.. Right now?''

Johnson sighed, and placed his mug back on the desk, crossing his arms along his chest and planting a fake confused glance along his features, ''Question, Adrian. That your name right?'' The agent nodded. ''I am the one who's leading this attack, right? And not you.. So tell me, when did we start to question my methods. Never! That's when,'' Johnson sighed. ''So I encourage you to check if you can, or might find a signal.'' A short pause followed before Johnson continued his sentence. ''Until then you should probably be quiet and do what I have ordered.'' Adrian simply nodded and turned back his head, refusing to engage in the fury of Johnson. However, Johnson would be lying if he didn't say that he started having doubts, as he softened his eyes and loosened his arms, he knew that he was definitely questioning his methods for the first time.

Though it wouldn't be the first time he lied, nor the last. But perhaps this may infect them more, then he wants to admit.

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><p><em><strong>Thanks for all the reviewsstory alerts and favorites. It means so much to me :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Witnesses**

**Summary: ''Sam, that is clearly an preposterous statement. We can't just, leave.''/ ''But we can't die either Rach.''**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or any of these characters. This is a bit AU, and it takes place after Regionals. Finn and Rachel are broken up. Sam and Quinn as well.**

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><p><strong>Chapter three: Making impossible decisions.<strong>

Her hand fits so perfectly in his, he just loves the way her nails dig in his palm and just about knows that she will leave marks. Sam enjoys the feel of her body so close with him, and the way he can conduct her to follow him, where ever he goes, yet feels her committed with the little process that they have made in their massive struggle between life and death. He benefits from the heavy respiration she's producing, it only shows him that she is indeed still alive and that the bullet hadn't penetrated neither of their body's. He needed assurance that the girl he was dragging along with him was still well and breathing. But perhaps the bullet could've hurt her in an appalling way or scar her just slightly without him knowing. However, that she didn't share any grievously noises or anything remotely close to let him gain some perspective that she might have been hurt, eases his fear. Though, it seems that Sam has forgotten one important matter; that they were now currently running through dark streets and not even knowing where to go, or where they were at this particular timing.

Sam's sight feathered, he blames it on the darkness he was roaming through. The coldness didn't seem to help either with his quest to find a secure place. His heartbeat quickened, as his feet dug into the streets. His body became tired, his legs wanting to give up. But he kept telling himself that if he does so, he would die right there and then. And he couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

Thus to make his point clearer he pulls Rachel harder with him, pulling her through the dark streets. His eyes attaining the sight before him, even though he could see little then less.

He was so scared, so terrified. His mind didn't know what to do, his body not knowing where to go. The whole situation seemed to have no exit, and Sam desperately needed one. Not only for his self but also for Rachel.

He runs past, what he thinks should be a wall, and takes the corner. But as he did so, he hears another swift noise through the air. Sounding precisely like the the gunshot they had just heard. And the same noise seemed to be closer, sounding louder. Hence Sam knew that the broad guy was close, very close.

His feet run faster, as fast as he thinks he can go. He doesn't expect to move as fast as lightening, but hopefully fast enough to escape the persecution they are in.

They pass for the first time in their pursuit, a lamppost. And Sam made sure to stay away from the vibrating light, for if he didn't do so, one of them could have be seen inside the light. And their identity would be revealed.

He won't risk their lives like that.

Sam thus tightens his hand more roughly around her little palm, ignoring the fervent feeling in his stomach, and pulls Rachel to his side. She didn't react to his sudden movement, didn't voice the pain he must be giving her, she instead followed his lead. Even starting to run faster.

She probably had the same idea as him.

''Stop! I.. J.. Just w.. Want to talk..'' The soft voice of their chaser was heard. His words halting mid sentence due to his breathing.

He kept running though, even when the broad dude voiced his reasons for following them. He still kept running. And in Sam's eyes that doesn't remotely come close to just wanting to talking. Thereby he doesn't seem to help his own situation by aiming a gun at them.

''Do.. Not, listen t.. To, him.'' Rachel bit between breaths, ''h.. He wants us to cease.'' Now she was the one pulling him harder to the side, jumping upon the pavement, before pulling him towards the walls at their left. ''Follow me.'' Rachel pulls him closer to the walls, loosening her hand in his before grabbing his wrist.

Sam gazes at the walls and vaguely sees something he presumes is a gap. Rachel pushes him ahead of her, using her free hand to push at his chest. Sam stumbles into the tiny gap, his body hardly fitting inside of it. He sees Rachel's face revolve to the left and right, perhaps trying to spot if somebody was near their sight or could see their actions. He notices how her hair moves along her face. Shaping her features beautifully, even if he only sees it in the darkness. She's still very pretty.

He also thinks that it would become pretty cramped if Rachel were to stand with him inside the gap too. Not that he's complaining.

Rachel follows his leads strictly and implants herself right in front of him. Leading their faces to be separate for merely a few inches. Their bodies tightly against each other. He holds in his breath as he feels her warmth over take him.

He thereby fears for a moment that the buff guy could perhaps see them between the walls, but however seeing as the darkness surrounds their environment, he would probably not see them.

He sees that his words are indeed true when he notices a figure running past them. Not sparing a look to their side, instead running forward. Sam could clearly see a object between the man's grasp. Something he would with no doubt have used upon him and Rachel.

Sam's seemingly glad that Rachel thought quick enough to save their asses.

But as Sam gazes back in front of him, his breathing yet still dissimilar, he feels a warm heat blow upon his cheek. And that's when he notices their flushed bodies against each other, once more. Her eyes shining in the darkness, her puffed lips slightly apart. He feels her hand still lingering upon his wrist, and her other hand on his chest. He observes the way her chest moves against his, almost trying to feel his presence. Perhaps leaning into him because of her fear, maybe even feeling slightly save with him.

It makes him feel like a hero that she wants to search security by him.

Although he knows that right at this moment he should be frightened just like her, and he is, and that he should be trying to sum the events up. And he does, try. However, everything seems to black out as he feels her move to the side, trying to look if the buff dude was gone, her chest gracing his lower chest.

And it feels remarkably, _good_.

* * *

><p>Johnson was angry, he <em>is<em> livid. Rage filling his body, fully. His face turning into a bright shade of red. He doesn't want to admit it, he refuses. But his anger shows it all. And the only thing roaming through his head is; _'How the hell could this be happening.' _More accurately, what went wrong?

How, in his lifetime of being a respective agent, has he sunk this low. When did he reach the point, where he couldn't turn back anymore. And instead has now been tangled up in a mess.

_''The signal is still dead.'' _He hears his agents voice through his head, shifting in his ears. And those words what he always thought were them jumping to conclusions. Have finally, at some point, started sounding like the truth.

''Where has the signal stopped.'' He hates it, so much. He hates admitting to his faults, and because he has never failed, this feels so painfully wrong.

The agent that he was daring to speak against him before, was typing onto the keys. ''6th street, Lima Ohio.'' Adrian responded.

Johnson lays his hand upon his head, sighing loudly. ''Go with the forces to this specific place, armed and ready to shoot if this is needed.'' He turns around abruptly putting his arms upon his desk. He turns his head as he notices the agents still sitting on their seats. Gazing at him as if he has two heads. ''Now! You fools!'' This made the others stand up and run out of his office.

As he hears the door close and the last agent leaving his office, he feels his rage building up. His arm reaching out to his desk as he sweeps all the equipments off. He soon stands straight up and pushes his desk from it's stand, letting this land on it's side on the ground. ''Damnit!'' He releases a loud growl, whereupon he walks to his swivel chair and kicks it to the ground. Johnson anger at it's high level, rage filling his bones. And the only way for him to act upon it, is releasing his fury at the things nearby him.

He still doesn't understand how this could've happened. How he could've let it gone too far.

Where did he go wrong? Was it perhaps his leadership? But it has never, ever failed.

He swears to the one they call God, even though he doesn't believe, he still swears, if _anything_ happens to his undercover agent he will not rest until he finds the perpetrator. But he doubts anything happened, this undercover agent was one of his best. And they have known each other for quite a while now. He knows all of Johnson tricks, and knows how to use them against others. And therefor always succeeds at one of these undercover cases. He was just like Johnson, never failing. And never giving up.

Johnson wipes his face with both of his hands, leaning on his own touch as he releases another soft growl.

''What is going on here.'' Johnson cups his head at his door, seeing his commissioner standing at the opening. Gazing at the lying objects. ''Johnson, in my office. Now!'' He shouts, before walking out of the door. His body minimizing as he dissipates in his own office. Johnson sighs before doing what he was told, as he steps over all of the object on the floor, and reluctantly kicking away some of the pencils and papers on the ground. He walks out of the door and feels the stares of the other agents on him. And all of them, without a doubt, having the same question in their heads; _'What is going on with Johnson.' _He himself, is asking the exact same question.

He wishes he knew the answer, though. Because if he doesn't know how to use his own methods anymore, he has then come to the illation that he probably, also, doesn't know his self.

* * *

><p>''We're save.. I think.'' Rachel steps out of the gap, and Sam straight away misses the feel of her body. ''What do you reckon we should do.'' He hears Rachel whisper softly as she speaks her words. Almost as if she's scared that the broad dude could hear them and come back. He doesn't judge her, though. He's scared too.<p>

''I don't know.'' And he really doesn't know, he's really clueless now. He walks out of the gap and stands next to Rachel. Looking at her, as she looks at the sky. The stars lightening the dark heaven. She's probably only gazing at the stars and thinking about how she's one of them. He understands why she thinks that though, as he sees the flickering of the starlight in her eyes. He knows she's one of them.

''We have just witnessed a murder, Sam.'' He sees her restrain crumble, ''we have to- we just have to do something.'' Her tiny hands turn into fists. And Sam wonders why the cheerios say that her hands look like man's. Because they don't, at all.

''I don't know,'' he repeats. ''I really don't know.'' He takes her tiny hand and motions for her to walk with him, and so she does. Both teens walking in silents together. ''We.. We should call the police.''

''No!'' Rachel starts, her empty hand coming immediately upon her mouth. And she looks scared. Fearing that maybe the murderers have heard her and are now in the known of their whereabouts. ''We can't.'' Her voice sounds muffled underneath her hand. But she probably knows that, because she removes her hand the instant. ''If we do so, we will be in danger. And we can't let that befall.'' Her eyes stare ahead of her, and Sam again watches her face in the darkness. Knowingly that the girl next to him is scared, and he can't do anything to help her with her fears. Even if he wanted too.

''But we can't just, like, move on with our life's, Rachel. This is huge, and we have to say something, anything. I can't- I don't think I can go on with my life without seeing...''

''...That poor man falling beneath our feet.'' She finishes. As he just nods, gazing with her before them.

He feels her hand grasp his tightly, as a shiver runs down her spine and reaches his hand. Sam knows that she is cold, and at this time of need he wants to make her feel save. Even if they have never talked before, or even spare a glance at one another. He still wants to help her feel secure, just like when she was standing before him in the gap and was leaning in him for security. The same way he held her body tightly when a gunshot was heard. He wants her to know that he's there for her.

''You're cold?'' He questions, but already knows the answer.

''Just a bit.'' And as the hero that he is, he lets her hand go. Ready to take his jacket off and give it to her.

_But wait_.. Where the hell is his jacket.

''Oh crap!'' He turns around and gazes at the roads behind them, he touches his whole body, but doesn't feel the jacket he was searching for. He even gazes back at Rachel, perhaps she was wearing it, without knowing. But even in the darkness, he could see that neither of them had the piece of clothing. ''Oh shit, Oh shit! Oh no!'' He lays both of his hands upon his head, shaking the thoughts out of his mind, but failing miserably. ''This is not good.''

''Sam, language..'' Rachel walks towards him and lays her hand upon his shoulder. ''What is wrong?'' Sam instead of answering her question begins pacing around. Leading Rachel's hand to be dropped of his shoulder. ''Sam..'' She try's again.

''I don't know where my jacket is!'' He shook his head. ''It's gone.''

Rachel cocks an eyebrow up, not knowing what to do with this piece of information. ''You can.. Always, buy, a new one?''

''No, it's not that.'' He searches frantically in his jeans pockets, and also in his hoodie, perhaps his ID could be in there. ''My ID, key's and wallet are in my jacket.'' He sighs, thrusting his arms upwards in defeat.

''Oh god!'' This time Rachel was the one pacing around. ''You have to be kidding me, Sam. How can you vacate your identity card in your jacket.''

''Yeah, how could I have know that we would be witnessing a fucking shooting!''

''Language!'' She rolls her eyes. Her index finger coming upon her chin. ''We have to go back.'' She states, causing Sam to turn around.

''What?''

''We have to go back,'' she say's, once more. ''You have probably left it at the shooting. If we leave now and go back home, they will have information about you. And soon...'' She didn't dare to continue her sentence.

Instead Sam continued it for her, ''they will find me, and kill me.'' He closes his eyes.

''I won't let that happen, Sam.'' She walks closer, already making her decision. ''We will do this together. It is, thereby, my fault.''

''Your fault?'' He snaps his eyes open. ''Are you kidding me, Rachel?''

''No, I most certainly am not. If I didn't leave that horrendous party, you wouldn't have followed me into your doom.''

''You are not the one who pulled the trigger.'' He took her hand, squeezing it gently. ''They were. And I won't let you do this for me.'' He drops her hand and starts walking backwards, turning around and continuing his steps to the shooting scene.

''If you go, Sam...'' She screams back at him. Her heart pounding in her chest and fear taking her body as a hostage. But as she saw his body stopping and waiting for her to talk, she knew that he was willing to do such a dangerous thing. Willing to risk his life, and in some way jumping in front of the bullet just so she could go scratch free. And if he was willing to do that for her, she most certainly would do too. ''...I will go with you.''


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Witnesses**

**Summary: ''Sam, that is clearly an preposterous statement. We can't just, leave.''/ ''But we can't die either Rach.''**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or any of these characters. This is a bit AU, and it takes place after Regionals. Finn and Rachel are broken up. Sam and Quinn as well.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter four: Our little secret.<strong>

Their feet were walking in sync, silents floating in their presences. Neither seemed to try to discourse with each other. Or even speculate about the out comings. Instead both teens walked towards their former insertion.

Consequences be damned.

However the quietness was killing Rachel. Hearing nothing but the cold wind breeze between them. Feet tapping softly on the ground one by one. Leaves whistling in the dark night. Although, it was a peaceful sound, and laid her troubles at ease. Which she needed. She still wanted to talk, when being nervous like this, words where what could ease her voltage. This always seemed to be the case. Sometimes it was estate to do such a thing, put your mind away from the problems and speak words that had nothing to do with her current difficulties. Needless to say, other times people seemed to anger upon her if she did so.

It didn't stop her, though.

Whatever it takes to feel comfortable.

''The air breeze is nice, isn't it? It makes the world a bit more uniquer then usual. It shows the more pristine sides to the world, and the less darker sides seem to fade. It also gives the world a more, beautifuler sight, don't you think? How the leaves color the trees. Have you ever wondered how these trees seem to warfare of green leaves, when the tribe is yet brown. It's unique, and makes it look far more pleasant. If it was not the case, the world would look boring. Besides, look at the ground, they give the floor a different color so we can welfare from the greater sides of the world, which is needed.'' She looks at her right side, to see Sam gazing wearily at her. ''Also, those lampposts, they show of this vehemently light. Perhaps also to make the world far more beautiful. Or maybe for our safety so that wandering people can see where they are going without falling, don't you think-''

''Rachel! Stop,'' he cuts in, causing her to snap her mouth shut. His lips are parted, eyebrows knitted. ''I understand that you're scared.'' He sighs. ''But, talking my ears off isn't going to help the situation.''

''Let's look back at that, shall we. How can a person talk your ears off, words just penetrate your body and linger in your mind, by some it might leave easily. If you're not all that concentrated you might not even hear the words. What might have happened several times with Finn.'' She pauses suddenly, gazing ahead of her. Staring in the darkness. Her mind roaming through memories. Sam might not see her face clearly, but he knows exactly what she's thinking about, now. ''Anyway,'' she sighs, gazing back him. ''Words are unable to talk one or another his ears off, that is psychical impossible.''

''I just meant it as a figure of speech, Rach.''

''Well, why don't you say that. People can assume different things, like really expect you to think that I can talk your ears off.''

He shakes his head. ''We're almost there, maybe we should tone it down, don't you think?'' He pulls her slightly to the side, as he sees their coming destination. ''Besides, you don't want them to hear you now, would you?''

She tenses under his touch and he immediately starts regretting his words. ''I didn't mean it like that.''

''No, no. I know. You're just trying to find the humor in our problems. And I'm just trying to talk my way out of our problems.'' She shrugs. ''Neither seems to work.''

''I guess where two strange people.'' She likes how he's trying to find the humor in all of it, actually. It's something he does best, and she never expected less out of him.

Her hand snakes inside his bigger palm. Squeezing it slightly. He's looking down at her, staring back, eyes confused, lips pursed. But he doesn't try and pull his hand out of hers. He kinda likes the way her hand feels in his. It's nice.

She's silents for a bit, walking together with him to their destination. It takes just several of seconds, minutes, perhaps. Before she feels like the silents is too much, too much to bare, and she starts talking again. Lips moving, frantically, eyes staring before her.

And he just stares back at her, wearily, a small smile creeping on his face.

But as their destination becomes far more clearer, and the crime scene appears, their eyes connect with blurring, flashing lights, vehemently haunting their vision. It takes him one second to see what is happening, and another second to put his hand on Rachel's lips to silents her.

She isn't fighting back, though. Just stopping right in her steps, and blinking back.

He pulls her slightly further more, inside the darkness, hiding behind a wall near their insertions. He stands at her back, her body firmly against his chest. His hand still upon her soft lips. She isn't struggling against him, and he isn't making any move to pull his hand away, or stand somewhere else and instead less closer or near her, butt.

But he kinda, really, sort of, likes this position.

What?

He's a boy.

_''You see that, right there. It's blood?'' _Sam looks closer, better, eyes narrowed as he tries to spot the man's, and several of females standing on the crime scene. He's almost, nearly, positive, sure that they are cops. _''The signal had died here..'' _One of the cops runs his hand through his thick brown hair. Pulling his other hand over his face. He's angry, disturbed, nervous, frightened.

_''You don't think he's dead, do you?'' _A female police officer responds, walking closer, kneeling down to her knees and inspecting the blood spot. _''Adrian, maybe you should take some blood, and call more officers to this scene. I think something badly went down. And Johnson won't be at all happy when he finds out.'' _Sam's swallowing thickly now, biting his tongue to prevent from talking, screaming, or making any noise that can sell them out. It will only provoke unnecessary questions. He can't risk that.

However, they have nothing to hide, right? They didn't do a thing, they are mere witnesses of a shooting.

So, why doesn't he move, then?

The female shakes her head, looking at the man she, (presumably just called) walking over. The man takes a little cotton swab out of his pocket, bending down to his knees, and wiping the ground with it. Pulling then out of his pocket a little plastic bag, and putting the cotton swab inside of it. _''I hope to God, that this isn't the blood of Marcus..'' _The man's hair brushes his pale face._ ''Johnson will have our heads if he figures out that an agent has been murdered.''_

..Oh shit.

The person being killed, couldn't be, shouldn't be, _can't_ be, a police officer?

Oh no.

That's some serious shit, right there.

The female is nodding, taking out her telephone and dialing in a number. _''I hope so too.'' _She's walking away from the others, opposite from their direction, and speaking in a hush tone at the person on the other line.

He's thinking that there are going to be more officers here, at any second, and being here, hiding here, isn't going to be a secure place, any longer.

''We have to go, Rachel.'' He's whispering, softly, gently.

She nods at this hand, her lips gracing on his palm. He removes his hand, slowly, gently.

He kinda, a little bit, misses the feel of her lips.

''Shouldn't we..'' She's taking in a breath, still staring at the lights, the police officers, the cars, the blood. Her mind wandering, haunted with disturbing pictures. ''Tell them?''

Somehow, he doesn't think she wants too.

''Let's go to your house,'' he doesn't expect her to say no, and she doesn't. Her parents aren't home, definitely, without a doubt. They never really are. And he doesn't think that she would want to be alone in a big house all by herself.

He knows he wouldn't want to be.

''Okay.''

That's all the confirmation he needs to pull her slightly on her hand to make her follow, grasping her little palm in his.

She doesn't remove her eyes from the lights as they walk away.

* * *

><p>Her hands are shaking, fingers holding her keys. She's trying, desperately trying, to put the little silver key inside the keyhole. But every time it touches the door, close to opening it and go inside her house, her fingers start to tremble, immensely, and she's left to steady herself.<p>

Breathing, in and out. Blowing shaky breaths through the air. Hands planted on her chest. Eyes closed.

Opening her sight, again. She tries to put the key, once more, inside the key hole.

But she fails each time.

Twice, thrice, even forth.

Sam knows that she's scared, and he's probably also scared but he can control himself far more. He can put his problems aside and do what is important. Thus, he lays his hand on her shoulder, moving his head to her ear, his lips gracing her cheek.

He swears, he can see her blush.

''Let me try it.'' She's stopping, not moving, and he leans just a bit more forward and takes the key out of her fingers.

He pulls his head away, stepping next to her, and stretching out his arm to open the door. And pushing it wide ajar. Motioning for Rachel to go in first.

She's smiling, weakly. But he knows it's a true smile. Even if it's so little.

She's stepping inside her house, and waiting for him to go in too. Holding the key, he hands it to her, and she takes it, before closing the door.

He's looking around her house, never having been inside her place before.

It's nice, and big (not that he expected any less) with large pictures and portraits of herself.

He wonders if she ever feels alone in such a big house without parents or sisters and brothers. But pictures, mirrors, furniture and TV's, to keep her company. It looks lonely.

''Let's go to my room.'' She touches his arm, briefly. Agitating to the steps going upwards.

He's following her, like a dog chasing for it's bone.

They reach her room, and she opens it for him, walking to her bed and sitting on top of it. He's still standing at her door opening, looking inside the fairly girly room. ''You can come in if you want too, you know.'' She's smiling, again. Still slightly though. He's certainly, positively sure that she isn't ready to smile all big. Not even a fake big smile show smile she seems to proclaim every now and then.

''Yeah, I forgot.'' He steps forward, closing the door behind him. Looking for a good place to sit, and eventually choosing the chair with the fluffy bunny's and bears on it. Placing his self on it. They look cute and huggable. Sweet and soft.

It's silents now. Neither talks. Neither knows what to say.

She sits better on her bed, propping her feet beneath her. Letting her skirt hike up just a bit and showing of a bit more thigh.

He shouldn't be looking.

It's not right, and especially not in a time like this.

He still does.

''What do you think we should do?''

He tears his gaze from her legs (which are amazing) and looks at her gorgeous brown eyes.

Why hasn't he seen her in this light before? That she has something, which had made Finn fall for her.

He kinda, a bit, (he's not admitting anything, because there's _nothing_) starts seeing it.

She's looking back at him, this time she's the one looking wearily and confused. And he remembers that she had asked him a question. And he feels like a total idiot for thinking about other things when his mind should be here. Right now. And not, far away. ''I don't know.'' He's answering honestly, trying to think or say something better. ''You heard them talk. We might've seen a policeman get killed.'' Which is mayor. Like really, really mayor. ''And, my jacket..'' Oh crap.. Was it even there? Did he even see it?

According to the look Rachel gives him, she saw nothing. ''Oh no.'' She's starting to breath, hard. Biting her lip, looking around everywhere. Like her solution could be somewhere in her room. ''Oh no. Oh no.'' She stands up. Pacing around, shaking her head. As though she's trying to put all the negative thoughts out. ''For all that is _Barbara_, this can't be happening.''

''You don't think that they have it. Do you?'' She's stopping abruptly, and he knows, that she thinks that they do have it. And that's why she is shaking her head, trying to put out those thoughts.

But it's true.

He's a dead man.

''Don't think like that, Sam.'' She's walking to him, her hands on his shoulders. And he's looking downcast. Already giving up.

He never even gotten the chance to watch Avatar for the fortieth time. And now it may never occur again.

She's sighing. She can't even come up with a logic explanation or something to ease him down. She's already believing it too. ''No, don't. Just don't think like that.'' He closes his eyes. Already thinking. ''If- if we tell the police, then maybe-''

''Police can't do a damn thing. I'll still be a dead man.'' He knows it's true. ''They can only extend my living period. They'll still find me.''

''Sam.'' She's closing her eyes too. But snaps them open, her hands leaving his shoulders. And he opens his eyes, feeling her contact leaving his body. Missing it.

Why is he even missing it?

But he's looking now, inside her brown eyes. And she's no longer that scared girl. The one that needed protection.

She's Rachel Berry, now.

''If you go Sam. I'm undoubtedly going with you.'' He shakes his head, because he doesn't understand what she means. He doesn't want to understand. ''I've brought us in this mess.'' No she didn't. ''And I won't let any other person go down, because of me.'' He's shaking his head, standing up. Ready to talk. But she beats him to it. Lips a thin line. She's serious. Really serious. ''If we leave, together, they might never find us.''

He's laughing now, because she can't be serious. But she is. She really is. And he stops laughing. Confused now. Angry. ''No. Rachel stop. You can't. I won't let you do that.''

''I've already made up my mind.'' She steps back to her bed, sitting down, arms crossed. ''And I think you know by now that you can't modify my decisions.''

He doesn't know how to react now. He's too confused.

Running away? Together?

Going to the police can only manufacture questions, and those murderers will do anything, to get them. It's dangerous, a black road without any lights. Sparks are too far ahead, stars unable to be seen. Candles already out, sun is still down. It's black and they can't see. They have to touch all around them to find a way.

But running away, leaving, together. Nobody knowing a thing. They could be alright.

Maybe Rachel is his star, leading his way. The only light on the black road.

''I'm not going to make decisions yet, Rachel. Maybe, they don't have my jacket. Or maybe they won't try to find me.''

''But if they do. Don't you dare leave or do something, without requesting me first. Because, wherever you go. I will go with you.'' She's swallowing, nodding slightly. Choosing her choice, making her decision. Holding on to that little, small statement full of truth. ''You would do the same thing for me, right?''

He's not hesitating. ''Yeah.''

''See.'' She smiles, brighter now. Happier. ''Do you want to stay over?''

He knows that she doesn't want to be alone, she's too scared. And his parents think that he would stay over at Puck's, with his friends. So they wouldn't be worried, it's just a slight change of his plans.

Besides, he wants to stay, either way.

''Yeah.'' It's all he needs to say, to see her smile brighten even more. Her smile is bigger now, brighter. Lips curved up, cheeks up. Eyes sparklingly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: Witnesses**

**Summary: ''Sam, that is clearly an preposterous statement. We can't just, leave.''/ ''But we can't die either Rach.''**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or any of these characters. This is a bit AU, and it takes place after Regionals. Finn and Rachel are broken up. Sam and Quinn as well.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter five: It's going to haunt you.<strong>

He wakes up next to her sleeping body. Her chest rising up and down. Her face restful, and eyes closed. Brown hair falling on her cheeks. She's holding the blanket close to her chin. Fingers digging into the soft material. Holding on to it, as if dear life depends on it.

He doesn't want to wake her up, because she looks peaceful, and beautiful. But they still have school, though. It's still must. And he knows how much she likes going to school, and arriving all early. So, he will be doing her favor by waking her up.

''Wake up, Rachel.'' His whispering slightly, moving his lips closer to her ears. But she doesn't react. She doesn't move. ''Rach.'' He lay's his right hand on her shoulder. Kneeing her soft skin. Moving his thump slightly on her flesh. ''Rachel.'' She's still not moving. So he pushes her, softly. Gently. Shaking her feather lightly.

And it's all it takes to make her jerk up. Screaming, breathing widely. And he's left backing up and falling from the already tiny bed. Landing on his butt.

His hand flies to his ass, cupping it. Releasing a loud grunt to express his pain.

Rachel still unaware of the boy who had just landed flat on his ass, lays an hand on her chest. Her heart beat knocking on her delicate hand.

Her eyes moving around, spotting her whereabouts. Letting her mind be aware of her current surroundings. Her eyes capturing the stuffed animals, the chair in the corner of her room. Looking at the laptop on her desk, Sam on the floor. Pink walls..

_Wait.._

What is he doing on the floor?

She jumps out of her bed and runs around the mattress to the sitting boy on the ground. Forgetting all about her fears and anxiety as she lays a warm hand on his head. Her fingers pulling away his blond strands of hair.

Which are really, really soft.

''Are you okay?'' Her voice is breathy, warm. ''Why are you even sitting on the floor?'' She's confused now, looking back at the side of the bed where he was laying before. Where his strong arms were around her body and holding her steady. Making her feel safe, secure. Taking her fears away with just his warmth.

She never felt like that with Finn. But in some way, his idiotic, moronic actions did make her feel pristine.

He's still moaning, trying to push his self up. And she helps him, snaking her tiny hands around his bicep and helping him pull his body together. Trying to restore his falling dignity. ''I was trying to wake you up.'' He's pressing his eyes together, biting his lip before fully standing on his feet. ''But then you screamed, out of nowhere and I freaked out.'' His eyes are open, looking at her plump red bottom lip between her teeth. Biting on it, slightly, gently.

This time he's the one trying to help her, laying his hand on her shoulder. She tenses underneath his touch, but soon regains composure. ''It's nothing.'' She sounds embarrassed, still frightened. Settling her body back on the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

He doesn't take his eyes away from her, and he doesn't settle for being told no when he clearly knows that something is wrong.

He moves to sit next to her, looking at her face, her eyes staring at a spot on the wall.

''Yes there is.'' She releases a breath she never knew she was holding. ''You wouldn't be screaming like that if there wasn't anything.''

She knows that he won't drop this subject even if she were to beg him to do so. And who is she to leave him in the dark when he's done nothing but to shield her away from it? He deserves this bit of honesty. And she deserves somebody who she can open up to, without earning confused facial expressions.

He's not Finn, he wouldn't act like that.

''I,'' she's swallowing, thickly, hard. A large painful lump hidden in her throat. Pressing against her insides. ''I had a nightmare.'' She feels pathetic, weak. ''About the shooting.'' Sad, sissy, ''It kept replaying it inside my head. And that gun,'' stupid, idiot, weakling, _you're_ not worthy to be called strong. ''Pointing at me, aimed at me.'' She fists her hand on the sheets beneath her. So many different emotions floating within her, inside her head, inside her heart, it's building up to tears. But she's withholding them. ''And he fires..''

It's like the sound of the hard bang re-enters her hearing.

He clenches his jaw, looking back at her, concerned. His fingers snaking to her balled fist. Trying to sooth her by rubbing his fingers on her round knockels. ''And I keep seeing his face, his dark eyebrows, his posture, his name keeps appearing inside my head.'' She shakes her head furiously, as though the name once again comes inside her head, and she's trying to shake it away, let it exit her head and leave her premises.

He has a question now, though. And therefor the name within her head has to stay set for a little while longer. ''When the shooting happened..'' She's still focused on that little spot on the wall. Looking at, _nothing. _''You said a name. You called the name of one of the mans, the leader.'' Her fist tightens beneath his fingers, and he uses his full hand to cover up her smaller one. ''Do you know him?''

She's exhaling, standing up. His hand falling from hers. But he doesn't make movement to stand with her. She needs to do this, on her own. He knows that. He can't help her now. Not always.

Her hands fly to her hair, grabbing the soft strands within a fist. Her fingers snaking through them, holding on to it. Just like she held on to the blanket.

She releases the breath, letting it out. ''He was our schools former football coach.'' He's confused now, why would a football coach do something like that? ''He left after he had gotten a mayor break down. He and ms. Pillsbury didn't marry. And everything just, went down hill for him.'' He's nodding now, and she releases her hair, hands falling along her waist. ''We never saw him again.''

''But you're convinced that he was the one shooting that.. _Cop_.''

''Yes. Positive. I know how he looks like.''

He's speechless, unable to form a coordinated sentence.

She's moving around, body still trembling. Walking circles around her own ash.

He stands up, moving forward, and just for a minute she stops dead in her tracks and looks up at him. Surprised and confused.

Nevertheless, he leans down. Wrapping his arms around her body. Pressing her head against him. Her hands still tightly along her waist, hanging there, motionlessly. Cheek pressing against his hard, muscular chest.

''We have to go to school, Sam.'' She's saying it softly, eyes almost closed.

''I know.'' His arms tighten around her.

Neither makes rapid movement to go to school.

* * *

><p>His teeth are white, <em>so<em> white. Blinking within the darkness. Shimmering like trimmed gold. His lips curved up, revealing a big wide grin. Eyes black, dark. Face full.

He walks closer, stepping forward. Footsteps echoing through the streets. A wrong melody, holding on to one steady pace. Like tap dancers on a wooden stage, stepping and dancing upon the platform.

His clumpy large hand raises. A black weapon between his long covetous fingers. It's big and large and black. It sends all the wrong signals down her spine. Which has to conclude her to run away. Make her feet listen and dash away from the streets.

Her brain knows this.

But her legs refuse to move.

The gun aims back at her, fingers at the hold. Moving slightly, almost torturous, to the trigger.

She's the prey, and his the hunter. She never got the chance to run, but he has the chance to kill.

She wants to beg for her life, but the words die somewhere in her throat. She wants to move. _So, so, so, _badly. But her legs can't do this simple task. Frozen on the streets, attached and becoming one like the stone covered ground.

His grin widens, his finger reaching closer to the trigger.

She hears a bang. A loud clang, a severe noise through the air. Violently and malicious.

She feels a sting of pain shooting through her stomach. Worse then that time that she had bruised her knee during dance practice. This feels like everything else in her life gets taking away, and she's left with completely nothing but the sting of failure, regret, pain and sadness.

She bents forward, hands landing on her stomach. Feeling the slippery moist wetness of blood.

It hurts unbearably much, so much that she_ has _to lean on her knees just so she doesn't have to put too much effort on standing on her feet.

The steps come closer, walking far more slower then before.

She cups her head up, hair falling along her cheeks, body becoming limp. Eyes feeling heavy, oh, so, heavy.

''Smile.'' His voice is rough, as he aims the gun back at her face.

It's dark now.

* * *

><p>''<em>Rachel. <em>Rachel! Are you okay?''

Her head jerks back, body shaking. Eyes wide, trying to look around her area by moving her head around.

''Is everything fine?''

She stares straight in front of her. Meeting the eyes of Mr. Schue.

She takes a minute to compose herself and another to steady her breathing. ''Yes. I'm fine.'' She looks around the class room, catching several of eyes, before returning her vision back to Mr. Schue. ''Just a bit tired.''

He shakes his head, unable to believe that one of his best students (presumably the_ only _student who at least puts enough effort to work) had fallen a sleep in the class room. ''Don't let it happen again,'' he sighs, walking back to the black board. ''I'm not use to that kind of actions from you Rachel.''

She hears faint snickers behind her.

Santana rolls her eyes. ''Typical Rachel berry. Drama Queen extravaganza.''

Rachel bows her head, putting her hands on her face and leaning against it.


End file.
